


That's How It Sleeps

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boyking Sam, Nonbinary Character, Other, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21773056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: Honey, don’t feed it; it will come back.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	That's How It Sleeps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Glass_Jacket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Jacket/gifts).



> Inspired by the song It Will Come Back by Hozier.

It’s always the same yet altogether new.

He should know better; I know better. Still, we end up here every time.

We end up twisted and wound around each other, rough and lazy. Sam’s hands holding me down, fingers leaving prints, teeth scraping and bruising.

He holds me down with everything he has.

Last time I said it would _be_ the last time, but here we are sweating and out of breath, Sam’s face between my legs, stroking me, mouthing me, licking and sucking. He uses his teeth on the insides of my thighs to nip and gnash.

He holds me open, slides his tongue everywhere, sucks at tight, smooth skin. All I can do is sigh and moan. My hands slide into his hair, pleading.

We’re damned to this thing between us.

Dean doesn’t know that I’m back in Sam’s bed. Dean wouldn’t like it if he knew.

“Fuck, you always taste so good,” Sam moans, pushing one finger inside, just barely, wiggling the tip of it.

I hiss. “Yes,” I whisper.

“You like that?” he murmurs, stretching that tight ring of muscle, licking and sucking. “Yeah, you fucking like it.”

He consumes me, his hot mouth on me, my knees over his thick, broad shoulders, as he works that one finger inside.

“So fucking tight,” he groans.

Sam is so big, and even after getting him off twice this morning – this early dusky morning – with my mouth and hands, he wants to get inside me.

His arms are ropes binding my thighs, but I grind into his face, into his mouth.

The buildup is brutal and blissful – always with Sam. It’s so easy to need him.

“Come on,” Sam grunts, sliding that finger all the way inside, licking me full and thick. “Shit, I want you to come, wanna fuck you.”

I’m groaning and nodding, trying to open myself wider so he can get more inside. Then I’m coming in his mouth, on his tongue.

Before I can register movement – everything is so hazy – Sam’s moving up my body, he’s slicking me up, slicking us both up, he’s… _fuck_ , he’s pushing against me, the fat head of his cock butting against me, rubbing, pushing.

“C’mon,” he seethes. “Open up for me.”

“Fuck,” I breathe, holding my legs up and open wide for him.

And then he’s squeezing inside, and it stings so fucking good, _God_ , he’s so hard and thick.

“Fuck,” I swear again, eyes squeezed shut tight.

The squelch of all those delicious things mingling together is obscene and gorgeous as he works inside me jagged and solid.

“Shit,” Sam groans, thrusting against me, inside me, not quite all the way, but _fuck_ , so good, like a white-hot flame.

His fists are planted in the plush of the bedding on either side of my head. Sam’s full length inside me, finally, his body planking over me, between my wide-open thighs.

Then he starts to move.

My breath is forced from my lungs with every thrust as Sam grits his teeth over me, heaving.

The _fuck, fuck, fuck_ of him inside me hypnotizes me, spins me around and up again. I’m gonna come again.

“Always so good,” Sam stammers with breath, sweat dripping to my chest.

We come at the same time this time and it feels like something foretold, something sacred or forbidden.

Sam slowly lets himself down over me, relaxes over me. He stays inside me, humming into the crook of my neck as I wrap my arms around him.

I can feel him falling into sleep and my mind races with how I’ll get out of the bunker without Dean seeing or hearing me.

_“Sam, you know better than to let it in here,” Dean growled._

_“River isn’t an_ it _, Dean,” Sam replied._

 _“River’s a fucking_ demon _, Sammy.”_

Dean’s right, I am a fucking demon.

What Dean doesn’t know is that his brother is the new king of Hell. Dean would like to know that as much as he’d like to know that I’m in his brother’s bed again.

Soon, though, Dean won’t need to know anything.


End file.
